


drawn to you

by SportsAnimeRuinedMyLife (KnightOfRage)



Series: shoujo a go go [1]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Fluff, Friendship, Gekkan Shoujo fusion, Humor, M/M, Pining, lil bit of angst, seriously, so much pining
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-09
Updated: 2015-11-13
Packaged: 2018-04-30 18:51:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 16,248
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5175830
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KnightOfRage/pseuds/SportsAnimeRuinedMyLife
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Iwaizumi is a shoujo manga author, Oikawa definitely isn’t stalking him and Hanamaki and Matsuwaka manage to make falling in love look easy. </p><p>aka. the GSNK crossover that no one asked for</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Oikawa

Oikawa Tooru has never confessed to someone before.

Sure, he’s gotten confessions close to daily since he grew into his lanky frame in first year and became elegant instead of awkward. He’s gotten rather good at fielding confessions from girls, kindly refusing them and getting presents in return.

Still, he’s pretty sure that just turning people down isn’t the same as actually confessing to someone. And that is why, despite having a crush that has lasted for the better part of a year, Tooru is currently watching Iwaizumi Hajime from behind some bushes instead of going over and talking to him.

He is not a coward. He is just...being cautious. Biding his time. As one does.

“Yo.” A voice behind Tooru makes him flail and fall into the bushes.

“Maki!” Tooru hisses. “What are you doing?”

Hanamaki Takahiro raises an eyebrow. “Well, I assumed you were gonna creep on what’s-his-name again at lunch today…”

“I’m not _creeping_!”

“Oikawa. You’re peeking at him from behind some bushes. That is intense creeping, bro.”

“I don’t need this from you.” Tooru huffs, folding his arms and looking away.

“You’re blushing.” Hanamaki informs him.

“I am not!” Tooru lies. He is definitely blushing. “It’s just hot out today, okay?”

“Whatever you say.” Hanamaki hands him a package of milkbread. “Here, I got this from your bag.”

“My lunch.” Tooru blinks, surprised.

“Yeah, I knew you’d be creeping again today, so I brought it out.” Hanamaki pulls out his own lunch and settles beside Tooru. “Can’t have you not eating again.”

“Thanks.” Tooru sniffs. “But I wasn’t creeping.”

“Stalking, then.”

“Maki!” Tooru whines.

Hanamaki, as usual, does not respond to Tooru’s complaining. It is a very annoying habit of his. They sit in silence for a few minutes, then;

“He got a haircut.” Tooru informs Hanamaki.

Hanamaki doesn’t look up from his lunch. “How dare he.”

“It looks so good, Maki.” Tooru moans, covering his face with his hands. “Why does he get to look so good?”

“You should go over there and give him a piece of your mind.” Maki says. “Beat him up or make out with him or whatever it is you want to do.”

“It should be illegal to have arms that nice.” Tooru mutters, opening up his own lunch and poking at it. “That _asshole_.”

Maki sighs. “You are just the worst sort of person.” He says. “Go confess to the guy. If he says no, I’ll help you beat him up and then we can go get ice cream. If he says yes, all of the girls will stop confessing to you and there will finally be some for the rest of us.”

“It isn’t that easy…”

“Yes it is.”

“No it isn’t!” Tooru pouts. “You don’t know my pain, Maki.”

“Yes I do.” Hanamaki says flatly. “I have heard you whine about your pain every day for the last two years. I am well acquainted with you and your various pains.” He stares at Tooru for a long second. Then, “Go confess.”

“I won’t!”

**~~~~**

Tooru would never admit it, but maybe Maki has a point. Surely just confessing to Iwaizumi would be less stressful than his current strategy of low-key stalking.

He goes to the bathroom after his last class and stares at his reflection. His hair is perfect, not a strand out of place, and his skin is mercifully clear of acne for once. If he’s going to confess, then today is as good a day as any. He’s got a few minutes before he needs to be at practice. Tooru knows from his ~~stalking~~ , ahem, _observation_ of Iwaizumi that he’ll be passing through the front gates on his way home any minute.

He takes a deep breath, winks at himself and reminds himself that he, Oikawa Tooru the captain of the Seijou volleyball team, is a catch.

He can do this. He positions himself right outside the front gate. _He can do this_.

Iwaizumi walks past him, brow characteristically furrowed and eyes focused on the ground. If it was anyone else, Tooru might be apprehensive about their expression. But he’s learned that vaguely-pissed-off is kind of Iwaizumi’s default.

Tooru thinks that it’s cute.

“Uh, Iwaizumi-san?” He calls, wiping his sweaty palms on his pants.

Iwaizumi looks up, blinking in confusion.

“Uh, hi.” Tooru waves at him. “I’m Oikawa Tooru. I’m in the class next to yours…?”

“Right.” Iwaizumi says. Tooru continues to just stare at him for a minute. Iwaizumi raises an eyebrow. “Did you need something or…?”

“Oh, yes!” Tooru says hastily. “I, erm, yes!”

"What is it?” Iwaizumi hitches his bag more securely over his shoulder.

“So, um…” This is the part where the girls who confess to Tooru play with the braids or flutter their eyelashes or something. Tooru bites his lip and tries to look alluring.

Iwaizumi looks mildly concerned for him. “Uh...are you okay?”

“I am so okay! The okayest!” Where is his usual charm? Where is the smooth words that makes him practically irresistible to every girl at Seijou? What is _wrong_ with him?

Iwaizumi looks increasingly perturbed. “I think it’s most okay, actually.” He’s taking tiny steps backwards away from Tooru. "Not okayest."

“Well, I’m that, then. Totally the most okay.” Tooru takes a deep breath, tries to calm himself down. “I’m sorry, can we start again?”

“I actually have a lot to get done…” He rubs the back of his head with a hand.

Oh no, he’s leaving! He can’t leave like this! Not before he’s witnessed Tooru’s smooth moves!

“Wait just a minute.” Tooru says. Iwaizumi waits. Tooru closes his eyes and borderline shouts the words. “I really like you! I think that you’re really cool, Iwa-Iwaizumi-san!”

When he finally gathers the courage to open his eyes, Iwaizumi is looking at him with a weird mixture of surprise and resignation. “Oh, okay.” He says, not sounding at all bothered. “Thanks.”

“Um, so…” Tooru is pretty sure Iwaizumi’s response isn’t typical confession behavior. “Would you…” He fidgets, hoping that Iwaizumi will pick up the conversation and tell Tooru if he feels the same way or not.

Iwaizumi sighs. “Look, just don’t tell people about this, okay?” He pulls out a pen and a piece of paper. “I’m always happy to meet a fan, but I’d rather not deal with it at school every day.” Tooru can only watch, speechless, as Iwaizumi signs the paper and hands it to him.

It reads IWA-SENSEI in blocky, black letters.

Wha…

Tooru wants to ask what is even going on right now, but Iwaizumi fled while he was distracted by what can only be Iwaizumi’s autograph.

_What._

_The._

_Actual._

_Hell._

**~~~~**

  
“He gave me his autograph.” Tooru tromps up to Maki before volleyball practice with the empty, dead eyes of someone who has been through hell. “I told him I liked him...and he _gave me his autograph_.”

Maki stares at him for a full five seconds before bursting out into laughter.

“Stop it, Maki!” Tooru pleads. “Stop!”

“I...hahaha, oh wow…I’m sorry, Oikawa, this is just…” Maki tries and fails to control his giggles. He’s bent double, wheezing.

“Mean!” Tooru hits his back with Iwaizumi’s autograph. “Mean, mean, mean!”

“Ahahahaha, you always make fun of me when I get turned down.” Hanamaki grins. “Fair is fair, Oikawa.” He snatches the autograph away, examines it. “He gave you this?”

“Yes, okay?” Tooru tugs on it, trying to get it back. “Give it back!”

Maki lets the paper go without warning and Tooru falls flat on his ass. Maki laughs at him again and Tooru pouts, hugging the autograph to his chest. “Y’know,” Maki sits down beside him. “The name Iwa-sensei actually sounds kind of familiar.”

“Really?” Tooru traces the letters of the autograph with a finger.

“Mmmhmm.” Maki is tapping at his phone, distracted. “Let me just ask my sister…”

Tooru continues to stare down at the autograph as Hanamaki texts his younger sister. Surely Iwaizumi knew what he meant. Tooru would like to think that he was being fairly obvious. Maybe this paper is just Iwaizumi’s weird way of trying to let him down easy?

“Ah, I knew it.” Maki hums after a couple minutes.

“What?” Tooru tears his eyes away from the autograph. “What is it?”

“Iwa-sensei.” Maki grins. “He’s a manga author.”

“What, _seriously_?”

“Yep. My sister has all of his stuff.” Maki’s grin widens. “Looks like your boyfriend thought you were some insane fan. Granted, that’s kind of true…”

Tooru hits him with the autograph again.

**~~~~**

Tooru goes out that night after practice and buys every manga that Iwa-sensei has ever written. Research is vitally important for destroying rival teams. It follows that research will be just as important for destroying...er...for _conquering_ Iwaizumi’s heart!

He expects something shouen, complete with gratuitous violence and explosions. What he actually gets is...not that. Probably the opposite of that.

Iwa-sensei’s most popular series, Our Love Story, is the pinkest, girliest thing that Tooru has ever seen. The checkout girl gives him a weird look when he shoves all nine luridly pink volumes towards her. 

He stays up all night reading it. At first, he rolls his eyes a lot as the generic heroine tries to get the generic hero to fall in love with her using only spunk and a can-do attitude. But slowly, he starts to get invested. _Really_ invested.

And somehow he finds himself sobbing his eyes out at three in the morning thanks to a combination of exhaustion and frustration because generic heroine-chan deserves to get her man! It isn’t fair that generic rival-chan and her evil cronies keep getting in the way! It just isn’t fair!

He manages to drag himself to morning volleyball practice two hours later, full of coffee and regret.

“Whoa.” Hanamaki says when he sees Tooru walk in. “Nice to see you, night of the living dead.”

“Mmmffff.” Tooru huffs, pressing his face against the cool outside of his locker. It feels nice. Kind of like his bed. Maybe he could just take a few minutes to nap...

“What was that?” Maki hums. “I don’t speak zombie.”

“I read his stupid manga.” Tooru mumbles.

“The whole thing?”

“The whole thing.”

“I see.”

“It was so stupid.”

“Oikawa.” Maki puts a hand on his shoulder. “You read the whole thing.”

“It was still _stupid_.” Tooru mutters, mutinous.

“Shhh.” Maki pats him on the head. Tooru leans into a little. Head pats always make him feel better. “This is good news, Oikawa.”

Tooru says a reluctant farewell to his locker and draws back to look Maki in the eyes. “Why?” He asks. “Is this a good thing?”

“Well,” Maki says. “It means that you and your boyfriend are both equally ridiculous.”

“He’s not my boyfriend.”

“Not with that attitude.”

 "Shut up." Tooru mumbles, letting his eyes close and letting Maki pat his head a little longer. 

**~~~~**

It takes a while, a few days actually, but Tooru makes up his mind. He is doing this. Round two isn’t going to end like round one. There’s a reason volleyball has more than one set and there’s a reason why Tooru isn’t going to fuck up this time.

He’s got a head full of shoujo, a heart full of Iwaizumi and a can-do attitude.

He is doing this. He is _making this happen._

He waits outside of Iwaizumi’s classroom at the end of the school day and hides his face behind a magazine so none of his fanclub will spot him.

They do anyway because, no matter what movies have shown him, a magazine is a shitty disguise.

“Oikawa-kun!” Noriko-chan and Hana-chan from Iwaizumi’s class rush up to him as soon as the door opens.

He holds up the magazine for a second longer, hoping they’ll get the hint and just leave him.

“Oikawa-kun?” Their voices get louder, closer. He can practically smell their perfume.

Tooru admits defeat.

“Ah!” He drops the magazine and smiles. “Hana-chan! Noriko-chan! You both look lovely today!”

They smile and blush and see _this is what he was supposed to do when he talked to Iwaizumi last week_. “C-can I talk to you for a second, Oikawa-kun?” Noriko twists one of her braids around a finger and, yeah, it’s cute, but Tooru really needs to get going or he’s going to miss Iwaizumi.

“Ah, I’ve actually got a lot to do…” He tries.

“It will just take a second, Oikawa-kun!” Hana advocates for her friend.

Tooru feels himself being persuaded because he’s always been weak when girls smile at him, but he sees Iwaizumi leaving the classroom behind him and, yep, that takes priority.

He smiles at Noriko. “I shouldn’t rush talking to such a lovely young lady.” He says, trying to keep his eyes on the girls in front of him and not the grumpy-looking boy tromping past. “I’ll come find you tomorrow when I’ve got more time, okay?”

“O-oikawa-kun…” She stammers, cheeks flushing.

“You’ve always been so patient with me.” He reaches out, brushes her cheek. “Thank you for understanding.”

She looks ready to pass out as he turns and hurries towards Iwa-chan’s receding figure. He needs to sort out the Noriko thing, but that can wait until tomorrow. After he’s sorted out the Iwaizumi thing, hopefully.

“So!” He falls into step beside Iwaizumi, keeping his breathing level to hide the fact that he kinda sorta ran to catch up.

“Oh.” Iwaizumi glances over at him, expression distinctly unimpressed. “It’s you. Oikawa, right?”

“Aw, you remembered me! How sweet!”

“Yeah, well.” Iwaizumi looks him up and down. “You’re pretty... _different_ than my usual fans.”

“Mmmm?” Tooru hums. “In what way? Am I more attractive? Funnier? Better at volleyball?”

“Well, for one you’re a guy.” Iwaizumi says. “Also you’re not thirteen.”

“Rude!” Tooru complains, following Iwaizumi down the stairs and towards the entrance. “Stop assuming things about your readers!”

Iwaizumi walks faster, probably in hopes of losing him in the crowd. Tooru is not deterred. He is, after all, taller than most people and therefore better at spotting people in crowds. They emerge from the crush and arrive at the gates, Tooru borderline shoving people to stay a step behind Iwaizumi.

“Whew!” He says, wiping ~~real~~ fake sweat from his forehead. “That was a workout!”

Iwaizumi side-eyes him. “Why are you still following me, Oikawa?”

“Because I’m your number one fan!” Tooru gives him the same peace sign and wink combo all the girls love.

Iwaizumi looks mildly nauseated. “You are such a trashy person.” He huffs before turning and walking away.

This is not going how Tooru planned. Talking about feelings and/or confessing is surprisingly difficult to do. He suddenly has a lot more admiration for the girls who corner him behind the gym or on the roof and ask him to accept their feelings.

He might not be able to confess to Iwaizumi just yet, but he can at least spend a bit more time with him. He follows behind him despite the fact that Iwaizumi is walking the opposite direction of his house. “So, Iwa-sensei…”

“Why are you following me?”

“So rude!” Tooru complains.

“Seriously, go away.” Iwaizumi grunts.

Tooru remains determined. “So why did you start drawing manga, Iwa-sensei?”

“Don’t call me that.”

“Iwa-chan, then.”

“Don’t call me that either.”

“Whyyyyy Iwa-chan? Why manga? Why _shoujo_ manga?”

“If I answer will you leave?”

“Give it a try and find out!”

Iwaizumi lets out a heavy, exhausted sigh. “Fine.” He glances at Tooru, nose wrinkled in irritation. Tooru bites back a giggle. Iwa-chan is so cute. “I’ve always liked to draw.” Iwaizumi says, stuffing his hands into his pockets and hunching his shoulders. “I’ve been doing manga since I was really young too. It was just a hobby, but people said I was good so I started sending my stuff in to editors and eventually it got picked up.”

“Ooooo.” Tooru pretends to be amazed. “Iwa-chan can be so _chatty_ when he wants to!”

“Shut up, dumbass!” Iwaizumi’s cheeks turn pink. “You asked about it, didn’t you?”

He didn’t really expect Iwaizumi to answer, though. Instead of telling him that, Tooru just laughs. Iwaizumi aims a kick at his shins that he dances away from.

“I used to read my sister’s shoujo manga when I was younger, you know.” Tooru confides, sticking his hands in his pockets. He looks sidelong at Iwaizumi. “And of course I’ve read yours.”

“I don’t have any siblings.” Iwaizumi says flatly, probably trying to shut Tooru up. But for Tooru, this is exciting. A brand new Iwa-chan fact! How exciting!

“Oh really?” Tooru says brightly. “I have an older sister and an older brother! My sister is already married and everything. She has a bratty son, but he looks up to his Uncle Tooru.” He laughs to himself. “I mean, I am pretty cool.”

“Is there a reason you’re still following me?” Iwaizumi says. The school is long out of sight.

Oh. Oops. Tooru is kind of far from his house by now. “Just wanted to spend more time with Iwa-chan.” He says brightly. “Can I come to your house? Can I see where the magic happens?”

“No.” Iwaizumi answers immediately.

“Aww, come on.”

“No!”

“Just for a little bit!”

“You’ll probably murder me and keep my organs in jars or something!”

Tooru blinks at him, nonplussed. “Iwa-chan is really morbid.” He says after a beat. “Maybe I should be worried that Iwa-chan is going to kill me, huh?”

“God, no, I just…” Iwaizumi breaks off with a loud huff. “You are seriously annoying.”

“I am just a _serious_ manga lover, okay?” Tooru lies. He doesn’t read much manga, really, save for his binge-read of Our Love Story last week and the occasional sports manga.

“And you’re _seriously_ following me home.” Iwaizumi just stares at him for a long minute.

Tooru does a peace sign.

Iwaizumi sighs heavily and drags a hand through his hair. “I swear to god if you kill me…”

“I would never.” Tooru says solemnly. “How would I know what happens in your manga if you’re dead, Iwa-chan?”

“You are actually the worst.” Iwaizumi flicks his ear.

“So mean!” Tooru rubs his hurt ear with a pout on his face.

“Ugh, just come on.”

Iwaizumi leads the way to an apartment building a couple of blocks away from the school. Tooru lives in a big house with his mom, his dad and his brother. He can’t imagine living in an apartment without a yard to play volleyball in.

Tooru follows Iwaizumi up the stairs to the second floor. “Are your parents home, Iwa-chan?” He asks curiously as Iwaizumi unlocks the door.

“Ah, no.” Iwaizumi says, distracted as he opens the door and flicks on the lights. “I live here by myself, actually.”

“Oho?” Tooru takes in the apartment. It’s small, but clean. The walls are mostly bare, but there are some posters of old movies that Tooru half-recognizes and a few hardy houseplants in the corners. “Iwa-chan is so grown up!”

He just shrugs, dropping his bag by the door. Tooru follows suit before heading over to the table to examine the piles of paper sitting there. “Don’t get those out of order, moron!” Iwaizumi says.

They’re manga pages, partially unfinished, for Our Love Story.

“I would never!” Tooru blinks back at Iwaizumi, the picture of innocence. Iwaizumi rolls his eyes and turns away, closing the door behind them and fiddling with his tie.

“So do you do any club activities?” Tooru asks, flipping through the half-drawn pages on Iwa-chan’s table. There’s a scene with generic hero-chan playing baseball and one with generic heroine-chan crying and, to his delight, one with generic rival-chan being punched in the face by heroine-chan.

“Nah, not anymore.” Iwaizumi shrugs, still facing the door and fiddling with his tie. “I used to do volleyball back in middle school, though.”

“ _You did_?” Tooru shrieks, the sketches forgotten. He knew it was true love, he knew it!

“Uh, yeah?” Iwaizumi glances back over his shoulder, expression mildly alarmed at the decibels that Tooru managed to reach.

“What position?” Tooru asks excitedly.

“Wing spiker.” Iwaizumi finally finishes taking off his tie. “You’re on the team right now, right?”

“On the team?” Tooru scoffs. “I’ll have you know that I’m captain of the team!”

“Really?” Iwaizumi’s expression is disbelieving.

Tooru pouts. “Mean, Iwa-chan.”

“Seriously, stop calling me that.”

“ _Iwa-chan_ ,” Tooru says loudly, “I, the great Oikawa Tooru, will have you know that I am the best setter in the whole prefecture."

“So you’re a setter, huh?” Iwaizumi looks at him, considering. Tooru nods. “So you’re good with your hands then?”

Tooru splutters incomprehensibly for a minute. Is...is Iwa-chan _hitting on him_? Already? Tooru hasn’t even managed to put his seduction plan into action yet.

Iwaizumi ignores the way that Tooru is choking on his own tongue. “If you’re so keen on my manga, I’ve got something that you can help me with.”

Five minutes later, Tooru finds himself seated at Iwaizumi’s table with an xacto knife in one hand and a sheet of tones in front of him. “So I just cut these out?” He asks, looking doubtfully at the knife.

“Yeah.” Iwaizumi nods, settling down across from him. “Don’t press too hard or you’ll cut through the page.”

“Mmmm.” Tooru blinks. “So why exactly am I doing this?”

“I thought you were my biggest fan.” Iwaizumi says lightly, arranging some pages in front of him. “Surely my biggest fan is _overjoyed_ to be helping me.”

Tooru shrugs. “Okay.” He doesn’t really have anything else to do on his off day and besides! This means more time with Iwa-chan to put his not-yet-formed seduction plan into action. He grips the xacto knife more firmly. “I’ll be the best at cutting tones out, you’ll see!”

“Uh hu.” Iwaizumi settles down beside him and after a minute of watching to make sure Tooru doesn’t hurt himself, or worse hurt the pages, he starts to draw. They chat a little, about school and about volleyball, but for the most place they work in silence. It’s...actually kind of nice. At school, Tooru feels compelled to fill silences. People are always watching him, always expecting him to be good and charming and talented and vivacious.

Here, no one is expecting anything. Iwa-chan doesn’t really know much about him yet and, for now, Tooru relishes in the chance to be someone who doesn’t need to chatter to make the empty air seem full.

It must be two or maybe even three hours after they start when Iwaizumi leans away from the table and stretches. “Ah.” He groans and Tooru very determinedly does not look at the strip of skin showing between his shirt and his pants. “I should start dinner.”

“Oh?” Tooru drops his exacto knife and laces his fingers together, stretching them. “Is Iwa-chan kicking me out?”

He rolls his eyes. “I’m making food for you too, you idiot.”

“It’s fine!” Tooru waves his hands. “You don’t need to trouble yourself!”

“You should eat.” Iwaizumi says, almost absently. “Especially if you’re at practice all of the time.”

“I...ah…” Tooru feels himself blushing, so he applies himself more seriously to cutting out the tones. “Okay.”

“Keep at it.” Iwaizumi gets to his feet and brushes off his pants. “I’ll start dinner.”

“So sweet, Iwa-chan.” Tooru grins.

Iwaizumi throws a pen at his head.

By the time Iwaizumi finishes dinner, Tooru has pretty much all of the screentones for the next issue cut and applied. It’s delicate work, but Tooru has dexterous fingers thanks to years of setting.

“Already done?” Iwaizumi looks impressed as he flips through the pages. “That was fast, Oikawa.”

Tooru grins. “Don’t worry, Iwa-chan. I can go sloooow when I need to.” He winks. Iwauzimi stops looking impressed and starts looking disgusted.

“Ugh. You are such a trash basket.”

“Rude!”

“Let’s just eat, trashkawa.”

“So mean, Iwa-chan!” Tooru complains, but accepts the food that Iwaizumi sets in front of him with a word of thanks.

“This is really good, Iwa-chan!” Tooru blinks in amazement after the first bite.

“Idiot.” Iwaizumi flicks some rice at him. “Don’t sound so surprised.”

“Iwa-chan writes shoujo manga, Iwa-chan can cook!” Tooru continues to tease. “Iwa-chan is full of surprises!”

“Iwa-chan is going to punch you in the face.” Iwaizumi mimics him, making his voice go piping and high.

Despite his best efforts to contain it, Tooru lets out a horrible, hacking laugh escape. Half of the food in his mouth ends up sprayed all over the table.

Iwaizumi pulls his own food out of the way with a disgusted noise. “Idiotkawa!” He snaps. “Keep your food in your mouth!”

Tooru can’t help it. He just keeps laughing.

**~~~~**

The next day at school finds Tooru hanging outside Iwaizumi's classroom during lunch, torn between peeking in to see if he’s in there and retreating to find Hanamaki. Sure, they spent the day together yesterday, but Tooru isn’t sure if Iwaizumi would want to see him again so soon.

He’s still standing there, weighing his options, when someone taps him on the shoulder. He turns, expecting to see one of his fangirls, and almost drops his lunch when he comes face to face with Iwaizumi instead.

“Iwa-chan!” He says brightly. “Hi!”

“You’re still going to call me that, huh?”

“Yep!”

“Ugh.”

Tooru grins. “Don’t be so gloomy, Iwa-chan.”

Iwaizumi rolls his eyes. “What are you doing here anyway?” He asks. “Waiting for someone?”

“Oh, a girl who confessed to me is in this class." Tooru says breezily. It's not exactly a lie. Noriko-chan _almost_ confessed to him yesterday. He really needs to find a time to talk to her before the day is over so he can turn her down. "I was just checking up on her."

"Whatever." Iwaizumi moves to walk past him, his lunch in one hand.

Tooru follows. "Where are you going, Iwa-chan?"

“Didn’t you have a girl to check up on?” Iwaizumi says.

“I can do that later.” Tooru waves a hand and bounds along beside Iwaizumi. “Right now, I want to know what my favorite manga artist is up to.”

“Ugh, shut up about that, you idiot.” Iwaizumi hisses. “I already told you I don’t want that getting around.”

“Why, though?” Tooru asks, waving absently at some girls who shriek when he passes. “I think it’s cool that you write a manga. I think other people would be impressed too, Iwa-chan.”

“I like my privacy, okay?” Iwaizumi huffs. “And look what happened when just one person found out. I don’t want this,” He gestures to Tooru, “getting any worse.”

“Rude.”

“Shut up.”

They reach the secluded corner of campus that Tooru knows thank to his stalking, ahem, _observing_ , is where Iwaizumi usually eats lunch. He settles down and starts eating, seemingly content to ignore Tooru’s presence. Tooru waits a minute for an invitation, accepts that one isn’t coming, and sits huffily besides Iwaizumi.

“Is that really what you’re eating for lunch?” Iwaizumi says after a minute.

Tooru looks down at the milkbread in his hand. “Yes?” He blinks up at Iwaizumi. “It’s good.”

Iwaizumi rolls his eyes. “It isn’t good for you, though.” He gestures to his own lunch. It involves all sorts of nasty, healthy things like vegetables and rice. “You need more than just milkbread, especially if you’re going to practice after school.”

“Iwa-chan.” Tooru says very seriously.

“W-what?” Iwaizumi looks thrown by his suddenly serious expression.

“Are you my mom?

Iwaizumi jabs him in the hand with a chopstick. Hard. “Do you want to die, idiot?” He growls.

“Ow!” Tooru whines, massaging the hurt appendage. “Iwa-chan, you monster! I need these hands in perfect condition for volleyball!”

“Yeah, well, you also need a diet that involves more than just milkbread, but that doesn’t seem to be stopping you.” Iwaizumi says snidely.

“If Iwa-chan is so worried about what I eat then Iwa-chan should just make my lunch every day.” Tooru mumbles, mostly to himself.

Iwaizumi rolls his eyes. “Watch me, idiot.” He says, pushing his mostly uneaten lunch towards Tooru. “But for now, you can have this.”

“What, no…” Tooru can feel himself blushing. “If I eat Iwa-chan’s food then what will Iwa-chan eat?” Iwaizumi snatches the milkbread from Tooru’s hand, scowling fiercely. “Wait…” Tooru grabs for his milkbread, but Iwaizumi shoves his bento box into Tooru’s hands instead.

“You have practice today, yeah?” Iwaizumi doesn’t look at him and doesn’t wait for him to answer. “You need to eat healthy food. Not milkbread. You moron.”

“I, um…” Tooru is feeling rather overwhelmed by all of this, honestly. Sure, Maki gives him shit about his eating habits all the time, but no one has every forcibly tried to change them before. “I don’t want to steal Iwa-chan’s food.”

“Oh, shut up and eat it.” Iwaizumi unwraps the milkbread and takes a bite. He pulls a face. “This is the sweetest thing I have ever tasted.”

“It’s so good, Iwa-chan.” Tooru says, picking through Iwaizumi’s lunch and taking a bite. It is horribly healthy and horribly bland. “Can we trade back now?”

“No!” Iwaizumi takes another bite, pulls another face. “Seriously, how do you eat this all the time? My teeth hurt.”

“You’re not even enjoying it.” Tooru complains. He would usually put up more of a fight where milkbread is concerned, but he’s eating food that Iwa-chan made with chopsticks that were in Iwa-chan’s mouth. Sure, it’s disgusting and healthy, but still. It’s making Tooru blush.

“You need to add more sweet things to your food.” Tooru comments.

“How do you have any teeth left?”

Tooru elects not to tell Iwaizumi about the time he had to go to the dentist last year and get four cavities fixed. “Oikawas all have excellent genes, Iwa-chan.” Tooru winks at him. Iwaizumi rolls his eyes.

They both finish their lunch in silence. Once they’re both done, Tooru rests against the tree and watches as Iwaizumi takes out a pad of paper and starts sketching. It’s interesting, watching him draw. Tooru has never had much of a talent for it, but watching as lines and shapes become people and things is fascinating.

Tooru leans a little closer to Iwaizumi. “So what are you working on?” He asks, fighting the urge to hook his chin over Iwaizumi’s shoulder to get a better look.

“New side characters.” Iwaizumi says absently. “I’m kind of bored of my two leads.”

“Oh, you mean generic heroine-chan and her dashing generic hero boyfriend?”

“Shittykawa…” Iwaizumi’s hand clutches tight around his pen and his knuckles go white.

“Sorry, sorry.” Tooru smiles blandly at him. “That’s just what I kept calling them in my head. I forgot their names.”

Iwaizumi relaxes his grip on the pen and continues to sketch. “You know, for someone who claims to be my number one fan you sure do seem to have a lot of problems with my manga.”

Tooru smiles widely and waves a hand, just like he does to his teachers when he forgets to hand in an assignment. “Oh, Iwa-chan.” He says breezily. “The flaws give it charm.”

“Kind of like your face, you mean?” Iwaizumi doesn’t look up from his drawings.

“Rude.” Tooru complains.

“Mmmm.” Iwaizumi more or less ignores him, scratching out a girl with short hair and starting again.

Tooru fiddles with the empty bento box beside him. “So, um.” He flicks a piece of hair out of his face. “Thank you. For the lunch.”

“Sure.” Iwaizumi glances up. “Just try and bring more healthy food for yourself, okay? Athletes need to take care of their bodies.”

“Yes mom.” Tooru says with a smirk.

Iwaizumi balls up the milkbread wrapper and throws it at Tooru’s face.

**~~~~**

Next Monday finds Tooru at Iwaizumi’s apartment again. He had to stick around to talk to the coaches about an upcoming practice match, so he made the walk to Iwa-chan’s apartment by himself. He didn’t really get an... _invitation_ to come back, but he ate lunch three time with Iwa-chan last week! Surely Iwa-chan won’t mind if he comes over.

Besides, he figures Iwa-chan won’t mind the intrusion if he offers to help out with the tones again.

“Iwa-chan, your door was unlocked so I let myself in!” He calls as he opens the door. He takes a couple of step into the apartment and then stops short. Someone is sitting at Iwa-chan’s table. Someone who is definitely _not_ Iwa-chan. He’s a boy, probably Tooru’s age, with lazy eyes, messy dark hair and massive eyebrows.

“Who’re you?” Tooru blinks down at this new, non-Iwa-chan person who is sitting at Iwa-chan’s table.

“Oh?” The stranger raises one of his (admittedly impressive) eyebrows in Tooru’s direction. “And who are you?”

“I asked first!”

“Well, I was here first.”

“Iwa-chan!” Tooru whines loudly. “There’s a rude person in your house!”

“I already know you’re in my house, Oikawa!” Iwaizumi calls from the kitchen. “You don’t need to announce it like that!”

“Iwa-chan is so mean to me!” Tooru complains, folding his arms and pouting.

“So you’re Oikawa?” The non-Iwa-chan is getting to his feet. He looks Tooru up and down. “Huh.”

“What?” Tooru glowers at him. He doesn’t like this person who isn’t Iwa-chan spending time in Iwa-chan’s apartment. He probably has romantic designs on Iwa-chan, the fiend.

“I thought you were a girl.”

“ _What_?” Oikawa splutters.

Non-Iwa-chan smirks. “Yeah, Iwaizumi just told me about his crazy new stalker fan. He didn’t say anything about,” He gestures up and down. “All of whatever _this_ is.”

Tooru glowers at him. “Well, he hasn’t told me anything about _you_.” He folds his arms across his chest. “You random person who I’m still not sure is supposed to be in Iwa-chan’s apartment.”

“Shut up, Oikawa” Iwaizumi walks out of the kitchen, frowning. “This is Matsukawa Issei.” He says. “He helps out with the backgrounds in my manga.”

“Also I’m his friend.” Matsukawa informs him, slinging an arm over Iwaizumi’s shoulders. Tooru fights the urge to go grab that arm and break it.

He smiles instead, big and shiny. Iwaizumi looks mildly alarmed at the expression. “Nice to meet you, Mattsun~” He hums. “You already know me. Oikawa Tooru, Iwa-sensei’s biggest fan.”

“Oh really?”

“Yes really.” Tooru glares. He doesn’t like feeling like this, all possessive and worked up and mean, but he can't help it. He doesn’t deal well with not getting what he wants. He never has.

For a minute they both stare at each other, Tooru with daggers in his eyes and Matsukawa with careful nonchalance.

Then Matsukawa breaks into a grin. “I like this guy, Iwaizumi.” He says. “He’s super weird.” He drops his arm from Iwaizumi’s shoulders, takes a step back. He nods at Tooru, miniscule but there. _He’s not mine_ , he’s saying. I _know what you’re feeling and it’s not like that with us_.

Tooru pouts childishly, but internally he sighs in relief. “Iwa-chan, your friend is being rude to me.”

“Good!” Says Iwaizumi.

“Now Iwa-chan is being rude!”

“Good.” Says Matsukawa.

“Come on, big fan.” Matsukawa smirks at him in a way that Tooru finds annoyingly familiar. “Go in there and help your very favorite author.”

“Shut up.” Tooru mumbles, feeling his cheeks heat.

Matsukawa winks.

Tooru wants to break his arm again.

**~~~~**

Stopping by Iwaizumi’s place on Mondays when Tooru’s off practice becomes a habit. Tooru will spend a few hours cutting and applying screentones and Iwaizumi will pay him with dinner. Sometimes, Matsukawa wanders in and joins them, but it’s usually just Tooru and Iwa-chan.

The first few times, Tooru tries to help make the dinner. But after two bowls of udon that managed to congeal into a squishy jelly-like substance and one (very small!) fire, Tooru finds himself banned from the kitchen.

“This is cruel and unusual, Iwa-chan.” Tooru complains. “I almost had the hang of it too!”

“Uh hu.” Iwaizumi doesn’t even bother to disguise the clear doubt in his voice. “Sure, Oikawa.”

“So mean.” Tooru hums, leaning up against the wall right outside the kitchen. “No wonder no girls like you.”

“S-shut up!” Iwaizumi snarls. His angry voice usually delights Tooru, but right now it just makes him feel empty. Iwa-chan likes girls. Iwa-chan wants to date girls and not Tooru.

It’s fine, though! Everything is fine! He and Iwaizumi are friends now. At least, _he_ considers them to be friends...

“Hey, Iwa-chan?” He calls.

“What?” Iwaizumi huffs.

“Are we friends?”

“What?” Iwaizumi repeats.

Tooru rolls his eyes. “Friends, Iwa-chan, are we friends?” He taps his chin, pretending to think even though no one can see him. “I know you haven’t had one before, so the concept might be tricky for you…”

“Shut up, you idiot.” Iwaizumi pokes his head out of the kitchen. “Dinner is ready. Help me carry it to the table.”

Tooru pouts, but does what Iwa-chan asks. Once everything is set out, he sits and looks at Iwaizumi again. “You didn’t answer the question.” He says, helping himself to all of his familiar favorites.

“What question?” Iwaizumi raises an eyebrow.

“Are we friends?” Tooru asks again, feels his heartbeat get fast. This matters to him, it matters _so much_. He knows that Iwa-chan doesn't want him the same way, but if Iwa-chan doesn’t want him at all...

“Don’t be so stupid, Stupidkawa.” Iwaizumi snaps, scattering his thoughts. “Do you really think I would spend so much time with someone who wasn’t my friend?”

“Oh.” Tooru blinks. “That’s...oh.”

“Now.” Iwaizumi won’t look at him and, unless Tooru is imagining it, his cheeks look a little pink. “We should talk about manga.”

“Manga!” Tooru agrees. “Right!”

“I’m still trying to come up with new side characters.” Iwaizumi rubs the back of his neck with a hand

“Oh, yeah?” Tooru wills his voice not to crack. Normal, be normal, don’t scare him off...

“Got any ideas, Shittykawa?” Iwaizumi asks, tapping a chopstick against his plate. “You seem like you’d know about this romance crap.”

“Romance crap?” Tooru presses a hand over his chest, offended. “Iwa-chan is so brutish! How are you the same mangaka who apparently speaks to every young girl’s heart?”

Iwaizumi just kind of shrugs.

“But, seriously.” Tooru examines Iwaizumi’s face over his udon. “Why shoujo manga, Iwa-chan?”

Iwaizumi lets out a gusty sigh. “I started this series when I was fourteen, you know. It didn’t get published until I was sixteen, but I created the characters and everything a long time ago.”

Tooru kind of wants to break the heavy atmosphere with a joke about tiny middle school Iwa-chan, but something stops him. The expression on Iwaizumi’s face is sad and a little far-away, like he’s not really paying attention to Tooru anymore. For now, Tooru decides to just listen.

“I was...not exactly happy. Back then, I mean.” Hajime prods at his noodles with a chopstick. “I guess that drawing these characters…It was a way to live a life that I was never able to get.”

“What do you mean?” Tooru asks.

Hajime glances at him and then looks back at his plate. “You know. The perfect love story. The perfect friends. The perfect life. The sort of things everybody wants, I guess.”

“I guess.” Tooru echoes.

A couple of years ago, the life in Iwa-chan’s mangas was the one that Tooru had. But then he realized that he liked the male best friend characters just as much as he liked the female love interests. It made his simple, perfect life complicated.

Then one day he saw Iwa-chan. He still doesn’t exactly know why, but something inside of him just kind of went _oh_. And that was it.

Just...Oh.

Even now, sitting across from Iwa-chan and watching him stare moodily down into his noodles, Tooru isn’t over it. He’s still caught on that realization.

 _Oh_.

“But, yeah.” Iwaizumi laughs awkwardly, breaking a silence that is heavier than it should be. “I think that’s it. I kept up writing it because I liked the characters, I guess. It was easier than doing something new.”

“Well I’m glad you did.” Tooru smirks at Iwaizumi. “I am your biggest fan, after all.”

“Shut up.”

“Nah.”

He’s trying to hide it behind a hand, but Tooru can see that Iwaizumi is smiling.

He’s pretty sure that perfect lives are overrated, anyway.

~~~~

“Where did you get that?”

“Huh?”

“ _That_.” Hanamaki gestures to the lunch that Tooru is currently eating. It’s full of healthy things and completely devoid of milk bread. “You never eat stuff like that.”

“A...hahahaha.” Tooru laughs, awkward. “Iwa-chan, ah, Iwaizumi...he made it for me last night.”

Tooru gets embarrassed remembering the way that Iwa-chan had shoved it at him, red-faced, and told him that he needed to take better care of himself. Iwa-chan had threatened to make his lunches before, but Tooru never thought he’d actually go through with it.

“He _made you lunch_?” Hanamaki raises his eyebrows and settles down beside Tooru. “Maybe this guy does like you back.”

“I think he might want to be my mom, actually.” Tooru sighs, picking through the vegetables and trying to find the ones he dislikes least. “He keeps telling me to sleep more and eat better and not to drink coffee because it’s bad for me.”

“Well, he’s right.”

“Shut up.”

“I want to meet this guy.” Maki says.

“Iwa-chan?” Tooru splutters. “But you already know him!”

Hanamaki sighs, long-suffering. “Oikawa, most people don’t count watching someone from the bushes as meeting them.”

“But I…” Tooru thinks hard for an excuse as to why Hanamaki can’t meet Iwa-chan. Other than the fact that it would probably be embarrassing for him, he can’t come up with anything. “I don’t…”

“You go on Mondays, yeah?” Hanamaki asks. “On our free days?”

“Yes.” Tooru grumbles, poking moodily at his healthy lunch.

“Well I’ll come with you next time.”

“Maki no!”

“Come on, Oikawa.” Maki elbows him. “Don’t you want your new boyfriend to meet your good friend Hanamaki?”

“He’s not my boyfriend and I hate you.”

“That’s the spirit.”

~~~~

Despite his best efforts, Tooru finds himself on Iwaizumi’s doorstep the next week with Hanamaki in tow. He glowers at the other boy as they stand there, waiting for Iwaizumi to answer the door.

Hanamaki gives him a peace sign in return.

Tooru suddenly understands why Iwa-chan finds his peace signs so annoying.

“Yo, Oikawa.” Matsukawa, not Iwaizumi, is the one to open the door. “What’s up?”

“Hi Mattsun.” Oikawa sighs. 

“And who’s this?” Matsukawa’s eyes find Hanamaki and then stay there. Tooru is mildly concerned by this development.

“Uh, this is Maki.” Tooru says, suddenly feeling wrongfooted. “He’s a teammate.”

“Hey.” Hanamaki waves.

“Yo.” Matsukawa waves back.

Tooru shoulders his way past Matsukawa and into the apartment. “Iwa-chan!” He whines loudly. “Matsun is being rude agaaaain.”

Iwaizumi gets up from his place at the table and hits Tooru upside the head. “Be quiet, you.” He scolds. “

“Oho.” Maki hums in amusement. “Tough love, I see.”

“Maki!” Tooru complains. “Stop it!”

"Who's this?" Iwaizumi asks, eyes flicking to Hanamaki before settling back on Tooru. Tooru is mildly pleased by that development. 

“Iwa-chan, Mattsun, this is Maki.”

“Right.” Hanamaki says. “What are your actual names and not your patented Oikawa nicknames?”

“Maki!” Tooru complains. “Rude!”

The other two ignore him.

“Iwaizumi.” Iwa-chan grunts.

“Matsukawa.”

“Cool.” Hanamaki nods. “I’m Hanamaki. Oikawa and me are on the volleyball team together.”

“What position?” Iwaizumi asks, curious.

“You play?” Hanamaki’s eyes shine with interest.

“I used to.” Iwaizumi shrugs. “No time left for it with my manga these days.”

“Ah.” Hanamaki nods his understanding. “I’m a middle blocker.”

“Nice. I was a wing spiker.”

“Oho, really?”

“Yeah.” Iwaizumi tilts his head towards Matsukawa with a small smile. It makes Tooru’s heart flutter a little. “Matsukawa here was on the team too, actually. It’s how we met.”

“And what did you play?” Hanamaki’s eyes flick back to Matsukawa and his lips twitch up in a way that is, quite frankly, troubling.

“Middle blocker.” The smirk that Matsukawa gives in return is just as troubling.

“Same position. Nice.” The step closer to each other. This is growing _increasingly troubling_.

“Why did you stop playing, Matsun?” Oikawa asks loudly, trying to take Matsukawa’s attention away from Hanamaki. He does not need the two most annoying people he knows becoming friends. He does not deserve that.

“Had other stuff to do.” He shrugs.

“Wait.” Hanamaki says. “I knew you looked familiar...are you in the plays?”

“Yep.” Matsukawa grins. “You a drama fan?”

Hanamaki grins right back. “Something like that.”

Iwaizumi glances at Tooru. Tooru shrugs. He really doesn’t know what’s going on. Hanamaki is usually kind of standoffish when it comes to new people. This behavior isn’t familiar.

“What’s happening?” Iwaizumi hisses as Matsukawa laughs at one of Hanamaki’s terrible jokes.

“I don’t know!” Tooru whispers back.

“Does your friend usually...do this?” Iwaizumi demands, still in whispers.

“No! Does Mattsun?”

“No!”

“So what do we…”

“Yo.” Their whispered conversation is interrupted by Matsukawa. “You two done?”

“Uh…”

“I…”

“Come on, Oikawa.” Hanamaki sighs and grabs Tooru by the shirt. “Step outside with me for a second.”

“Wait, I…” Tooru doesn’t get much choice as Hanamaki shoves him out the door and follows before closing it behind them.

“What is it, Maki?” Tooru demands, putting his hands on his hips. “You’re acting very suspicious, you know!”

“Oh, sorry.” Hanamaki says flatly. “Next time I’ll whisper in a corner like you.”

“Shut up.”

“Nah.”

“So why did you even bring me out here?” Tooru pouts, leaning against the railing. 

“To tell you that while you and Iwaizumi were whispering, me and Matsukawa decided to go get some coffee.” Hanamaki says.

“You hate coffee.” Tooru says.

Hanamaki nods. “That’s true.”

“So why are you going to get coffee?”

Hanamaki shrugs. “Matsukawa seems cool.” He says idly.

“Wait, just…” Tooru feels slightly overwhelmed. “Do you...do you _like_ him?”

Hanamaki shrugs again. “Like I said, he seems cool. We’ll go from there.”

“You...you just... _I_ …”

Hanamaki pats his head. As usual, Tooru is weak against head pats and his stammering trails off into nothing.

“Be happy, Oikawa.” Hanamaki says. “I’m giving you time to spend alone with the boyfriend.”

“Not my boyfriend.” He corrects automatically.

“Yeah and whose fault is that?”

“I hope you choke on your coffee and die.”

“What was that?”

“I hope you have fun with Matsukawa!”

“That’s what I thought you said.”

They troop back into the apartment. Tooru feels a little bit like a bomb just went off in front of him. He has never seen Hanamaki want to spend time with someone like this before, especially not a boy and especially not after like five minutes.

It’s kind of freaking him out.

“So, you ready?” Hanamaki asks.

“Let’s do it.” Matsukawa says.

They leave the apartment, leaving Iwaizumi and Tooru staring at the door.

“Uh…” Iwaizumi stares at Tooru.

“What…” Tooru stares right back.

“What just happened?” Iwaizumi demands.

“I _don’t know_.”

**~~~~**

Tooru manages to put whatever weirdness went down between Hanamaki and Matsukawa out of mind for a few days. He is blissfully unaware until next week when he corners Maki after practice and demands he come over to help Tooru with some math homework.

“Can’t.” Hanamaki says, shrugging a shirt on over his head.

“What, why?” Tooru complains.

“I’ve got a date.” He says, words muffled as he pulls the shirt down over his head.

“A date!” Tooru squawks. “Why didn't you tell me? Friends _tell each other things_ , Maki!”

“Oh sorry.” Hanamaki rolls his shoulders. “It didn’t seem like that big of a deal.”

Tooru pouts. “You’re never any fun. So tell me…” He wiggles his eyebrows. “Whose the lucky lady?”

“Matsukawa.” Hanamaki says flatly.

“WHAT?” Tooru shrieks.

“You know.” Hanamaki says. “About this tall,” He gestures about his head. “Big eyebrows, bigger dick...”

“MAki!” Tooru throws a dirty shirt at him.

“I’m kidding, I’m kidding." Hanamaki smiles blandly . “It’s actually pretty average, so far as dicks go…”

“Maki, so cruel!” Oikawa whines. 

“But really.” Hanamaki shrugs. “He’s fun and he’s good looking and I like him. Plus we play the same position in volleyball. That _totally_ makes him my soulmate or something.”

“You can’t just decide like that!” Tooru finds himself speaking too loud, almost yelling. “It has to take time, you have to think about it!” He can’t decide if he’s mad or not. He’s... _something_. Sad, maybe. Frustrated?

“Look if this is about your thing with Iwaizumi…”

“ _Shut up_!”

They’re the last ones in the club room. Everyone else has already gone home. So Tooru has no reason not to talk about this. He just...doesn’t want to. Not with Maki. Not with anyone.

“Oikawa…”

“You...!” Tooru takes a deep breath, counts to ten. “Sorry.” He carefully keeps his eyes fixed on his shoes, remaining calm. “I just...this is happening very fast, Maki. Maybe too fast, you know.”

“I met him and I like him so I asked him on a date and he said yes.” Hanamaki looks at Tooru flatly. Tooru continues to look at his shoes. “Not all of us can be romance masters and stalk people like you, Oikawa.”

“For the last time!” Tooru insists. “I _wasn’t stalking him_!”

“Sure, sure.” Maki waves a hand. “Now, if you don’t mind, I’ve got a date to get to.”

“I hate you.” Tooru mumbles.

“What was that?” Hanamaki cups a hand around his ear, leaning towards Tooru. .

“I said I hope you have fun on your date, Maki.” Tooru gives him his best, shiniest smile.

“Hey.” Hanamaki looks at him, eyes flicking to meet Tooru’s. “You should ask him out.”

“I thought he was ‘totally your soulmate.’” Tooru does the air quotes and everything.

“I wasn’t talking about Matsuwaka, you idiot.”

Tooru is quiet for a minute, trying to put words to the reasons that he hasn’t told Iwaizumi about his feelings. Iwaizumi is his friend now and he wants that. He _needs_ it. And if he tells Iwa-chan about how he feels, he might lose the new, important friendship he’s managed to create.

“I just...can’t.” He doesn’t look at Hanamaki. “Not yet.”

“I hope that you’ll be able to someday.” Hanamaki says, grabbing his bag. “Cause I think he’d say yes.”

Tooru watches him go, sliding to the floor, drawing his knees up and hugging them.

He wants Iwa-chan to be his boyfriend. He likes Iwa-chan so much more than he did back when he used to peek at him from the bushes. He knows Iwa-chan now, knows that he’s kind and that he’s funny and that he takes care of Tooru without ever thinking about why he shouldn’t. But if Tooru tells Iwa-chan how he feels, that might ruin everything. He might say no. He might not feel the same. He might stop being Tooru’s friend.

Tooru doesn’t like feeling like he’s a coward.

But he can’t take that chance.


	2. Iwaizumi

Iwaizumi Hajime likes to think that he’s a good person.

He helps old ladies cross the street. He never cheats on tests. He hardly ever lies to his parents. He eats all of his vegetables and gives up his seat on the train to pregnant women and picks up his trash when it fall on the ground.

He is a good person, dammit.

He has no idea what he did to have Oikawa Tooru inflicted upon him.

It’s not that Oikawa is annoying, even though he is, and it’s not that Oikawa has a horrible personality, even though he definitely does.

It’s just that...well.

Oikawa is talented and attractive and attentive and athletic and Hajime is annoyingly into all of that. Hajime even finds his spoiled, selfish personality to be kind of endearing instead of awful like he should.

In short, Oikawa Tooru is exactly the sort of person that Hajime might fall in love with.

He does not need this sort of complication in his life right now. He likes to write about romance in his mangas, but up until now he’s been pretty successful about keeping it out of his own life.

He’s lying on the floor in the middle of his apartment and staring at the ceiling. He’s not typically one for teen angst, but he feels horrible right now. He’s willing to try anything at this point, even stereotypical wallowing.

He doesn't ever do things like this, so he allows himself a few minutes of staring at the ceiling and feeling miserable.

Even if it doesn't help him feel better, it might make for good inspiration for his manga.

Hajime sighs, loud and long. He keeps trying to deny his growing feelings for Oikawa, but it _just won’t stop_.

It’s been like this since Oikawa ambushed him at the gate and revealed himself as a fan of Hajime’s manga. It would have been okay if Oikawa had just disappeared back to wherever he’d come from, but no. He’s always _there_ now, taking up Hajime’s time and claiming space in Hajime’s apartment.

It’s horrible and it’s awesome and Hajime is ready to punch a wall from the constant stress that Oikawa seems to heap upon him.

Hajime hears his door open and he doesn’t bother looking up. If it’s some burglar, they can take his stuff. He doesn’t want to get up. He’s still very focused on doing his whole wallowing thing.

“Anyone home?”

“Oh.” He knows that voice. Not a burglar. “Matsukawa.”

“How was the date yesterday?” He asks. Matsukawa’s latest date with Hanamaki was what brought on Hajime’s bout of feelings. They’ve been dating for over two weeks now and, apparently, it’s going well. Hajime is trying and failing not to feel resentful and/or jealous.

“Hm?” Matsukawa walks over and stares down at him, impossibly tall from this angle. “Hi Iwaizumi.”

“Hi.”

“Why are you on the floor?”

Hajime shrugs the best he can while lying down. Matsukawa stares at him a moment longer before shrugging as well and lying down beside him.

Matsukawa is, on occasion, a good friend.

“So.” Hajime prompts. “The date?”

“Ah.” Matsukawa says. “It was good.”

“Just good?”

“Do you really want to do girl talk about my date with Hanamaki, Iwaizumi?”

Hajime actually kind of does want to talk about their date, if only to get inspiration for Our Love Story.

“No.” He lies.

They lapse into silence. Then;

“So where’s Oikawa?” Matsukawa asks.

Hajime scoffs. “Why would I know?”

“Well, it’s rare to see you without tall, dork and handsome these days.”

“Ha.” Hajime rolls his eyes. Oikawa really is a dork, though. Last week, he treated Hajime to a ten-minute long tirade about how _the extraterrestrials are out there, Iwa-chan!_

He has no comment about the tall and handsome parts to the descriptions. No comment at all.

“I can't get rid of him, Matsukawa.” Hajime drags a hand through his hair. “He’s like the human version of an STD.”

“Sure.” Matsuwaka says, clearly not believing him. “You totally hate him. That’s why you keep cooking for him and fussing over his sleep schedule.”

“He’s an _athlete_.” Hajime complains, exasperated. “He should know how to care of himself, but instead he acts like a six-year-old with his stupid milkbreads and insistence that sleep is for lesser mortals.”

“Aw. So sweet.”

“Shut the fuck up, Matsukawa.”

“You like him.”

“Shut up.”

“Hajime has a crush.”

“I’ma crush your face here in a second if you don’t shut up.”

Matsukawa turns his head to smirk at Hajime, tapping a finger against his lips. “Fine, fine.” He sits up and scooches over to Hajime’s table, pulling the manga pages sitting there waiting for backgrounds towards him. “I won’t say anything about your extremely obvious crush on Oikawa.”

“That’s all I ask.” Hajime says, propping himself up on his elbows to watch as Matsukawa flip through the pages. Then he flops back onto the floor. He could use another hour or so of being melancholy while Mastukawa does his backgrounds. For a while, Matsukawa draws and Hajime lies on the ground like a slug.

“Oh, hey.” Matsukawa glances up from the pages after a few minutes. “I forgot to tell you. Hanamaki is meeting me here in a little bit.”

“ _Why_?” Hajime says and is, quite frankly, horrified at how close to an Oikawa-style whine the word sounds.

“We’re getting dinner, I think.” Matsukawa says absently. “Or ice cream. I don’t remember what we said.”

Hajime fights the temptation to huff and roll his eyes. He is not a child. He is not Oikawa. He can deal with his emotions like a rational person.

Granted, lying on the floor like this isn’t exactly a point towards emotional maturity. He sits up very reluctantly and drags a hand through his hair. “Ugh.”

“Hello there, sleeping beauty.”

Hajime flips him off.

“So _rude_.” Matsukawa sings in a passable Oikawa impersonation.

“Oh my god, shut up.” He groans.

“Yeah, that’s probably for the best.” Matsukawa nods, a serious expression on his face. “You might try to jump me or something.”

Hajime gets up, grabs a pillow from the sofa and throws it at his head. It hits with a very satisfying thump. Hajime feels a bit better as he settles at the table and starts to sketch out new character ideas yet again.

It still isn’t going well. It’s official. He has writer’s block.

He glares at the paper and the pen in his hand, as if he can will them to work through determination alone.

Unsurprisingly, it does not work.

“Yo.” He looks over to see Hanamaki open Hajime’s unlocked door without knocking. He raises a hand in greeting and Hajime nods in return.

“Hey.” Matsukawa gets up and gives Hanamaki a quick kiss. Hajime looks away, hand tight on his pen all of the sudden.

Hajime hates seeing these kind of kisses the most. Not the passionate sort, he sees those all the time in movies and in manga. He hates the “oh, hello” kisses. He hates the “you were gone and I noticed” kisses. He hates the “you weren’t here and I missed you” kisses.

Those are the kind of kisses that he wants the most and those are the kind that he’s least likely to get.

They break apart and Hanamaki glances at Hajime. “Hey there, Iwaizumi.” He says mildly.

“Hanamaki.” Iwaizumi nods at him before going back to his paper. He’s still unsuccessfully trying to create the perfect side character. He think he wants a girl and he thinks he wants her to be some sort of romantic rival, but other than that he’s got no clue.

God he hates writer’s block.

“Still no ideas the new character?” Matsukawa looks down at the mostly-blank piece of paper in front of Hajime.

“None.” Hajime sighs. “I don’t usually get blocked like this.”

“Hmmm.”

“Would people watching help at all?” Hanamaki offers.

“What?” Iwaizumi blinks at him.

“People watching.” Hanamaki repeats. “You could come with me and Matsukawa to the mall. See if you see a person worth drawing.”

“I thought you two were going on a date.”

They look at each other, shrug in unison. “You can tag along.” Matsukawa says magnanimously.

“I don’t know…”

“Come on, Iwaizumi.” Matsukawa says. “If you don’t come with us, you’re just going to lie on your floor and sigh more.”

Hajime just kind of shrugs because, yeah, okay, that’s fair.

Half an hour later, they’re camped out at a sticky table at the mall food court. Hanamaki and Matsukawa share a sundae while Hajime glowers at passerbys and tries to find one who’s right for his manga.

“What about her?” Matsukawa points to a woman in her fifties with spiky, bleached hair.

“I write a manga about high-schoolers, you know.” Hajime says. “Somehow, I don’t think they’d buy her as a student.”

“Mmmm.” Hanamaki peers at Hajime’s drawing pad, which is mostly abandoned, faceless figures and angry scribbles. “I think she’d be more believable than the one with no eyes.”

Hajime snatches his drawing pad away, shielding it from their view. He draws in silence for a few minutes before Hanamaki and Matsukawa speak again.

“Is that…” Matsukawa says.

“Oikawa?” Hanamaki finishes.

Hajime looks up so fast his neck twinges.

Sure enough, Oikawa Tooru and some girl are wandering about the mall food court. He’s dressed in casual clothes, dark jeans and a shirt with some obscure movie logo on the front. He looks just as good as he does in his school uniform, maybe better.

Ugh.

“We should call him over.” Hanamaki muses.

“No, don’t...“ Hajime hisses. He is not prepared for Oikawa today and definitely not Oikawa with a girl.

“Hey, Oikawa!” Hanamaki calls loudly, raising a hand.

Oikawa glances around, spots Hanamaki and waves enthusiastically at him. A moment later, he’s bounding over with the girl tow. She’s cute, with twin braids and wide brown eyes. Hajime hunches over his notepad, drawing concentric circles and coloring them in, trying to look busy.

“Hey there Maki, Matsun!” Oikawa beams at them. “This is Noriko-chan.” He gestures to the girl. “I think she’s in your class, Matsun.”

“Yep.” Matsukawa says, popping the p. “Hey there, Noriko.”

“Matsukawa-kun.” She smiles at him and, dammit, she has dimples. She and Oikawa are probably going to have beautiful, dimpled children and Hajime is going to die alone in an apartment filled with cats and shoujo manga. “Oh, Iwaizumi-kun!” Noriko spots him and he tenses. “You’re here too!”

“Ah, yeah.” He looks up, gives her a smile he doesn’t feel. “What are you doing out with an idiot like him, Noriko?” He hitches a thumb at Oikawa. “You could do a lot better.”

She giggles. Oikawa gasps, scandalized. “Iwa-chan!” He complains. “So rude!”

Iwaizumi goes back to his sketching. Circles within circles, patterns that don’t have meanings. “Just telling the truth, Idiotkawa.”

“Hmph.” Oikawa sits down next to him and rests his chin on Hajime’s shoulder, making the hell that is his life complete. “What are you drawing, Iwa-chan?”

Oikawa smells like something citrusy and fresh, probably cologne worn for his date. Hajime thinks absently that he likes Oikawa’s normal smell of clean laundry and salonpas better.

“Nothing important.” He grunts, trying to shake Oikawa off. “Now get off.”

“Don’t wanna!” He sings and, wow, that is _loud_ this close to Hajime’s ear.

“Go pay attention to your date, you idiot!” Hajime pushes him off, harder than he needs to. Oikawa rubs his cheek, pouting.

“Iwa-chan…”

“You’re being rude.”

Oikawa’s eyes flicker to Noriko, who’s chatting awkwardly with Matsukawa and Hanamaki. He lets out a sigh, like he’d rather stay with Hajime than go talk to his girlfriend. It makes Hajime’s insides roil unpleasantly.

“I’ll see you on Monday for manga, Iwa-chan.” He says it quiet, private. Just for Hajime.

“Yeah, yeah.” Hajime says brusquely, trying to ignore the way Oikawa’s low voice makes him shiver.

He watches as Oikawa says his goodbyes to Hanamaki and Matsukawa before flouncing off with Noriko in tow. Hajime knows Noriko, she’s been in his class for a couple of years now. She’s smart and pretty and friendly. She and Oikawa make a dashing couple.

Hajime lets his eyes linger on the two of them and he bites back a sigh. The look like something from a manga.

“So…”

Matsukawa and Hanamaki are look at him knowingly.

“Shut up.” He mutters.

Hanamaki just smiles. “He meant to turn her down, you know.” Hajime doesn’t say anything, but Hanamaki nods as if he responded with great interest. “Oikawa isn’t actually all that good at saying no, you know.”

“Huh.” Matsukawa taps his chin. “What useful information. If only we knew someone who needed to ask our favorite idiot something.” He stares at Hajime. “If only.”

Hajime is annoyed and nettled and he can’t get the image of Oikawa’s hand in that girl’s out of his head or the sound of Oikawa’s voice out of his ears.

“I’mg going for a walk.” He huffs, getting to his feet and jamming his hands in his pockets.

“Bye bye.” Hanamaki waves.

“Ta ta.” Matsukawa does the same.

Hajime grits his teeth. They just don’t get it.

Romance isn’t easy for most people like it is for them.

Hajime’s gotten a couple of confessions from girls throughout the years, but that hasn’t really been helpful. Hajime, after all, is extremely gay.

He’s not out, exactly, but the people who he feels need to know do know. His parents, for one, and a handful of his close friends.

His parents took a while to come around. At first, when Hajime was fourteen and terrified, the insisted over and over that he was “just confused.”

Hajime hates when people say that he’s confused. He’s not confused at all. He knows exactly what he wants and he knows that girls aren’t it.

Eventually, they accepted that he wasn’t going to change his mind and now they don’t really bother him about it too much. He thinks that might change if he ever gets an actual, real-live boyfriend, but for now everything is more or less fine.

Out of all the people he’s ever come out to, he’s pretty sure that Matsukawa took it the best. He just kind of nodded when Hajime told him and bought him an disturbingly explicit yaoi manga the next day, complete with the inscription “ _Congratulations on your deviant lifestyle. <3 Matsukawa_” written in the front cover.

So, he isn’t new to coming out.

What _is_ new is coming out to someone who he could actually see himself dating.

Someone like Oikawa.

And sure, Oikawa is about four different kinds of awful. Hajime is readily willing to admit that. But he’s also funny and smart and interesting and he tries so very hard. There’s something about him, beneath all the fake smiles and the painstakingly styled hair, that Hajime can’t help but pay attention to.

Hajime leans up against a wall at the edge of the food court, glancing at Hanamaki and Matsukawa and at Oikawa and his date.

He wants something like that. He wants what comes after the confession, the silly dates, the kisses, the handholding. It’s why he writes manga, really. He can give that his characters, even if he can’t get it himself.

Hajime sighs, twines his fingers together and tilts his head back against the wall. Someday. Someday he’ll have what the others do.

But for now, all he can do is wait.

**~~~~**

“Shouldn’t you be with your girlfriend?”

Hajime curses his idiocy as the words fall, unthinking, when he sees Oikawa at his door the next Monday. Oikawa’s nose wrinkles when he frowns and, contrived or not, it’s annoyingly cute.

“Girlfriend?” He repeats, pushing past Iwaizumi to get into the apartment. “I don’t have a girlfriend.”

“Uh, yes you do.” Hajime decides to commit to his (fucking stupid) course of action.

“No?” Oikawa sets his bag by the door and starts undoing his tie. “I think I would know if I had a girlfriend, Iwa-chan.”

“I met her this weekend, Idiotkawa.” Hajime reaches out and yanks the tie. Oikawa squawks indignantly. “Noriko, right?”

“Oh, her.” Oikawa finishes with his tie, setting it aside and massaging his neck resentfully. “She’s just a friend.”

“Are you sure?” Hajime continues to press, even though he knows he’s being dumb. “You two looked pretty close.”

“Oh, Iwa-chan.” Oikawa winks at him like the tool he is. “All the girls want to be close to the great Oikawa-san.”

Hajime taps the side of his head with a hand. “Don’t be gross.”

“I’m never gross.” Oikawa smirks at him. “And I’m not dating Noriko-chan.”

“Are you sure about that?”

“Iwa-chan is awfully interested.” Oikawa leers at him. “Why do you care so much?”

“I don’t, of course.” Hajime blusters, looking away. “I just don’t want to see someone trashy like your hurt someone sweet like Noriko. It just looked like she thought that she was your girlfriend. “

“Mmmm.” Oikawa looks him up and down. “Well, she isn’t.” He looks away. “I’m not dating anybody right now.”

“Oh.” Hajime swallows. “That’s...oh.”

There’s a beat where neither of them says anything.

“It’s for the best,” Oikawa says finally, his voice a touch too high. “I am too great to a gift for any one girl, Iwa-chan.”

“You’re the worst.” Hajime says automatically.

Oikawa grins at him,.

There is no reason for him to feel so happy about this, no reason at all, but he can’t help the way his heart is suddenly thudding hard and heavy between his ribs.

Hanamaki and Matsukawa arrive a few minutes later, hand in hand and chatting about some videogame Hajime hasn’t played, and they all settle down for an afternoon of making manga or (in Hanamaki’s case) playing video games while other people make manga.

Oikawa, unsurprisingly, finishes his parts long before Matsukawa.

“I’m all done, Iwa-chan.” Oikawa says brightly. He’s presenting the pages to Hajime like an elementary schooler handing in homework.

Hajime rolls his eyes, but takes the pages from Oikawa anyway. They’re all done neatly and accurately, as always. Oikawa may annoy Hajime for a whole host of reasons, but as a manga assistant he’s above reproach.

If only Matsuwaka could draw his backgrounds as quickly as Oikawa does the screen tones, then Hajime would be the most prolific writer in Japan.

”Booo.” Matsuwaka jeers, as if he can hear Hajime’s thoughts. “Nobody likes a teacher’s pet, Oikawa.”

“Hush, Mattsun.” Oikawa sniffs. “You’re just jealous that Iwa-chan likes me best.”

Matsuwaka looks at him with flat eyes. “It’s true. You’ve stolen my dear Hajime-chan’s affections. You bastard.”

“I knew it.” Hanamaki gasps. “All this time, you’ve just been using me to make our precious Iwaizumi jealous.”

“Matsun, you cad!” Oikawa giggles, covering his mouth with a hand. “He trusted you! And you’d throw it all away for gross, ugly Iwa-chan.”

“Oi!” Hajime glowers. “You know I can spit in your food, right?”

“Oh, come on.” Matsuwaka says. “He’d probably like it.”

“Matsun!” Oikawa whines. “Don’t be gross!”

“I’m not the one who wants Iwaizumi to spit on them.”

“Oi!” Hajime flicks Oikawa’s ear. “I’m going to spit in all of your food if you don’t quit.”

“Why me, Iwa-chan?” Oikawa rubs his ear, betrayed. “I didn’t even do anything that time!”

“Come on.” Hajime scoffs. “You probably deserved it.”

Hanamaki and Mastukawa snicker together and Hajime isn’t jealous of the way that they’re holding hands. Nope. Not jealous at all.

He waits until they’re busy talking to each other before turning to Oikawa. “You should come over Sunday.” He says, oh-so-casually. “Matsukawa and I were going to do some drawing and then have a video game day.” He has vague plans to tell Matsukawa not to come so he can spend the day staring at Oikawa when he’s not looking and...yeah. Hajime is willing to admit that his life is kind of sad at this point.

“Can’t. We’ve got a practice game that day.” Oikawa looks legitimately annoyed that he can’t spend the day with Hajime and that...that makes Hajime feel kind of better about the whole thing. “Oh, I know!” He sits upright, looking eagerly at Hajime. “You should come and cheer me on!”

“But it’s just a practice match, right?” Hajime raises an eyebrow. Sure it’s been a while since he played, but he’s pretty sure that fans don't usually go to practice matches.

“Iwa-chaaaaan.” Tooru complains. “I always help you with manga and you never watch me play!”

He kind of has a point, not that Hajime will admit it.

“You’re my biggest fan, though.” Hajime argues, more out of habit than actual annoyance. “You should be overjoyed to help me.”

“Well, I’d be happier if you actually put me in the manga.”

“What.”

“I could be a love rival! Oh, that would be fun, Iwa-chan!”

“Shut up, no.”

“Well, if you don’t do that then you should come cheer me on this Sunday!” Oikawa smiles at him imploringly. “Please. I’ll be even more awesome than usual if Iwa-chan comes to cheer me on!”

Hajime has always been embarrassingly weak when Oikawa smiles at him like that, without any pretense.

He sighs. “Fine.” He grind out, reluctant. He will not become some lame Oikawa fanboy hanging around the bleachers. He is going to one game, that’s it.

Oikawa winks. “You should bring Matsukawa. It would make Hanamaki happy, I think.”

“I’ll ask him.”

“And you should still put me in Our Love Story.”

“Don’t push your luck.”

**~~~~**

That Sunday finds Matsukawa and Hajime camped out in the bleachers, watching as the Seijou volleyball team warms up.

“This is dumb.” Hajime says, not for the first time. “I should be drawing.”

“You’re still all writer’s blocked.” Matsukawa yawns. “This is better than you breaking another pen.”

“That only happened one time!”

“Two times.”

“...That only happened two times!” Hajime amends.

Matsukawa yawns. “Sure, sure.”

The whistle tweets before Hajime can argue and the game starts, players spilling out onto the court.

The game isn’t what Hajime expected.

Oikawa is startlingly competent. He’s someone Hajime hardly knows with a volleyball in his hand. His eyes are focused, intense, not at all like the chocolate puppydog eyes Hajime is so often treated to.

It’s...kind of unnerving.

Also kind of hot.

Hajime is on the edge of his seat as Oikawa directs the game from his place in the center of the court, ball handled with careful, talented fingers that have been so helpful on cutting out tones from Our Love Story. He actually gasps aloud the first time that he sees Oikawa serve, powerful muscles flexing and straining as he fires the ball across the court with impressive accuracy.

Beside him, Matsukawa snickers at his reaction.

Hajime blushes and hits him. “Shut up.” He mumbles.

“I didn’t say anything.”

“Still shut up.”

Matsukawa continues to snicker at Hajime all through the first set, but Hajime keeps his eyes fixed on Oikawa. He hasn’t played volleyball in years, but he can tell that Oikawa is extremely skilled. All of his tosses are deft and accurate, enabling his spikers to score. Hajime hands curl with a sudden longing to get back onto the court and try to spike of few of those tosses himself.

The first set ends with Seijou firmly in the lead. The players gather towards the front of the bleachers and Matsukawa leans over, calling out to Hanamaki.

Hanamaki grins up at them, hair damp with sweat. “Hey there good-looking.” He says to Matsukawa. Hajime rolls his eyes as Matsukawa blows him a kiss.

“Maki, what are you…” Oikawa trots over, eyes going wide when he sees Matsukawa and Hajime in the stands. “Iwa-chan!” He crows, delighted. ‘You came!”

“You asked me to, asshole.” Hajime mutters, trying not to look at the bright flush coloring Oikawa's cheeks or, _gah_ , his stupid _arms_.

"I know, but Iwa-chan never does what I tell him to!” Oikawa is bouncing from one foot to the other, his sweaty hair bobbing in time with his movements. “Did you see me? I got _seven points_ with my serve that set, you know.”

Hajime does know. Hajime was very, very focused on that serve. But, like, totally on the technical aspects. Not on the way that Oikawa’s tongue poked out of his mouth or the way his shirt rode up when he jumped real high.

“Yeah, yeah.” He waves a hand. “You could have gotten more if you didn’t fuck up that last one and hit the net.”

“So mean!” Oikawa splays a hand over his chest, pretending to be offended, but he can’t hide the smile still playing at the corners of his mouth. “I think you’re just jealous of my majorly impressive serve.”

“Uh hu.” Hajime can’t help it if he’s smiling back.

“Oikawa! Hanamaki!” The coach shouts. “Second set is starting!”

“Right!” Oikawa shouts over his shoulder, echoed by Hanamaki. He glances back at Iwaizumi for a minute and grins, the expression slipping from playful to dangerous. “I’m gonna get even more points this set, just you watch.”

“I…” Iwaizumi wants to say something mean, something biting, but that smile… “Yeah.”

Oikawa is already walking back towards his team. Iwaizumi watches the number 1 on the back of his shirt and bites his lip.

Oikawa gets eight points with his serve during the set. He looks right at Hajime after each one, and Hajime’s stomach clenches. He is such an ass, this shouldn’t be so attractive, but it is. Hajime isn’t even frustrated anymore, he’s angry. This is just unfair.

“Woah there, lover boy.” Matsuwaka says, tapping the back of Hajime’s fist. “You’re gonna break your drawing hand.”

Hajime reluctantly lets his hand relax. “He’s so dumb.” He mumbles. “I hate him.”

“I can see that.”

He watches helplessly as Oikawa grins at the other team. His expression is haughty, vaguely awful. _My team and I are going to win_ , he's saying, _and I am going to make you watch._

Hajime wants to hit him.

But he also wants to make out with him.

Hajime really hates emotions.

**~~~~**

Seijou, to the surprise of no one, wins by a wide margin.

Oikawa invites him and Matsukawa along with the team for celebratory ramen after the game, but Hajime declines, citing exhaustion. Oikawa pouts and complains, but Hajime still refuses.

He needs a little bit of time by himself to sort out all of this stupid emotional nonsense before he does something stupid like kiss Oikawa in full view of both his fan club and his team.

“Good game.” Hajime says, grabbing his jacket and not looking at Oikawa. “I’ll see you at school, okay?”

“Iwa-chan…” Oikawa whines.

“I’m really tired and I’ve got manga stuff to do.” He says. It’s not completely a lie. He is kind of tired and he is really behind thanks to his continuing writer’s block.

“Okay, Iwa-chan.” Oikawa sighs. “Can we have lunch tomorrow?”

“Fine, fine.” Hajime waves a hand. “Have fun with your team. Keep Matsukawa and Hanamaki out of troubled, yeah?”

Oikawa laughs, looking a bit more cheerful as he waves Hajime off. “See you!”

“Yeah.” Hajime says before heading off. He jams headphones into his ears and turns his music up loud. It’s a good distraction.

But not good enough to keep thoughts of Oikawa floating through his brain.

Oikawa is selfish and kind of mean and desperate to succeed and talented and Hajime _can’t stop thinking about him_.

This is so embarrassing, so stupid.

He lets himself into his apartment, locking the door behind him. No interruptions this time. He is going to stop thinking about Oikawa and start working on his manga.

His determination dries up within about five minutes.

He’s staring down at a blank sheet of paper and, once again, he can’t come up with a single thing to draw. His mind is still buzzing with thought of school and Hanamaki and Matsukawa and Oikawa.

This sort of thing, persistent writer’s block, has never happened to him before. Sure, he’s had a couple days where he’s off, but a complete inability to focus is something new.

But...wait. This only started happening after he started having (embarrassing, annoying, awful) feelings for Oikawa. So maybe that’s the answer.

Maybe he doesn’t have writer’s block at all. Maybe he’s just distracted.

He’s been looking for weeks to find inspiration for a new character to shake things up in Our Love Story...maybe it's been staring him in the face this whole time.

It only takes Hajime ten minutes to sketch out a love rival based on Oikawa. He names her Aoi and makes her hair light instead of dark, but she’s Oikawa through and through.

It’s more...honest than he’d like. Aoi always tries hard and she’s good, great even, but never convinced that she’s the best. She has elegant limbs and flippy hair and a smile that makes everyone want to pay attention.

She’s loud and she’s annoying and Hajime spends way too much time drawing her wide, hopeful eyes and her long, distracting neck.

He hopes desperately that Oikawa, Matsukawa and Hanamaki will refrain from commenting on his incredibly obvious source as he sketches out the latest issue. It ends up being more about Aoi than his protagonists, but he’s satisfied with it. It’s easily the best thing he’s done in weeks.

He slides it away, puts his head down on the table and unsuccessfully tries to put all things Oikawa-related out of mind.

**~~~~**

“You wrote me as a girl!” Oikawa complains. He's lying on his back, holding a page from the latest issue up in front of his face.

“W-what?”

“Aoi. That’s me, isn’t it?” He drops the page and props himself up on his elbows.

It’s Monday once again and they’re in Hajime’s apartment. Oikawa is flipping curiously through the issue Hajime wrote frantically after the volleyball game yesterday. His long fingers are tracing Aoi’s face.

“I...ah.” Hajime knows there isn't much use denying it. It's kinda obvious after all. “You said you wanted to be in my manga, Oikawa.” He huffs. “You should be happy.”

“You made me the girl!” Oikawa pouts. “So mean, Iwa-chan.”

“Shut up.” Hajime flicks his ear. “Just be happy I’m writing again.”

“So you’re over the writer’s block, finally?” Oikawa says, rubbing at his ear.

Hajime looks at him out of the corner of his eyes. “Something like that.” He answers.

“Something like that?” Oikawa repeats.

The words Hajime wants to say, about how much he likes Oikawa, how he’s so distracted by him he can’t even write like needs to, are on the tip of his tongue.

“Something.” He says, looking back down at his manga and keeping the words trapped firmly behind his teeth.

**~~~~**

When Hanamaki comes up to Hajime one day during lunch sans-Oikawa, Hajime is almost sure that something has gone terribly wrong.

“What is it?” He asks warily as Hanamaki sits down beside him. “How did you know I sit here?”

“Just a lucky guess, I suppose.” He waves a hand and glances absently at the row of bushes a few feet away.

“Oh yeah?”

“Mmhm.”

Hajime takes a couple of bites of his lunch. Hanamaki sits beside him serenely. “So, uh…” He asks finally. “Is there, like, a reason that you’re here?”

“Oikawa.” Hanamaki hums. “He seems to be attached to you.”

“Uh, I guess.” Hajime hedges, picking at his lunch so he won’t have to look at Hanamaki.

“Well, as one of those who has suffered through Hurricane Oikawa for years now, I just thought I would give you a warning.”

“A warning?”

Hanamaki nods. “We’ve got a practice match against one of Oikawa’s old junior high teammates coming up.” Hanamaki glances over at Hajime. “I just wanted you to know. He can get kind of... _difficult_ when stuff like this comes up.”

“Difficult?” Hajime repeats flatly. He is having trouble imagining an Oikawa who is any more difficult than the one he currently deals with.

Hanamaki just nods. “Refusing to eat and sleep, having emotional outbursts, punching underclassmen. You know. The usual Oikawa things.”

“Punch…” Hajime splutters. “He _punched an underclassman_?”

Hanamaki sighs. “It was in junior high. He’s gotten better since then, but...like I said. Difficult.”

“Why did he punch an underclassman?” Hajime is kind of caught on that bit.

Hanamaki sighs. “The kid was a genius and Oikawa...he doesn’t deal well with people like that. Like I said, he’s better about it now.”

“Hm.” Hajime folds his arms, thinking. He knows Oikawa pretty well now, or at least he thinks that he does, and he kind of gets it. Oikawa tries so hard at everything. A kid coming in and beating him without effort would definitely get him riled.

“Just...be prepared, all right?” Hanamaki is still looking at him.

Hajime sighs. “All right.”

**~~~~**

In spite of Hanamaki’s warnings, Oikawa seems more or less normal the next few times that Hajime sees him. They have lunch and work on manga and Hajime waits for the walls to tumble, but for the most part things seem steady.

Or at least, they seems steady until Oikawa comes over one Monday looking like he might pass out any second. He seats himself at the table and smiles at Hajime, the expression drooping with exhaustion.

They work in silence for a few minutes and then;

“You should sleep.” Hajime grunts. He’s used to Oikawa’s perpetual yawns and under eye bruises, but they’re near-constant today. He keeps slumping closer and closer to Hajime’s table before noticing and sitting bolt upright again.

“Hmmmm.” He just hums in response to Hajime’s words, flipping to a new page.

“Like, now, you idiot.” Hajime clarifies. “I’m worried you’re going to pass out and drool all over my manga.”

Oikawa laughs, but the sound is strangely vacant, like he can’t get up the energy to actually be amused. “Don’t worry, Iwa-chan.” He says. “I’m fine.”

“You aren’t.” Hajime folds his arms. He hates it when Oikawa does this, when he acts like his health and his comfort are irrelevant. There’s something about Oikawa that’s always made Hajime want to take care of him, even before he had these stupid...feelings. He wants to bully Oikawa into bed and stand guard to make sure he sleeps a full eight hours. He wants to make Oikawa healthy food for lunch every day of the week so he’ll stop with those damn milkbreads.

He wants to take care of Oikawa. He wants to be _allowed_ to care for him like this.

“Mmm, so bossy.” Oikawa huffs, but he’s too tired to sound genuinely annoyed. “Iwa-chan thinks he’s my mom.”

"Oikawa..." Hajime rumbles. 

A testament to Oikawa's tiredness is how fast he caves. Usually, Hajime would have to try much harder. 

“Just...a few minutes.” Oikawa sighs and troops towards the couch.

“Just take the bed, moron.” Iwaizumi huffs.

Oikawa looks at him with a strange, startled expression and Hajime fights to keep his voice steady. “Just...it would probably be more comfortable than the couch. I don’t...mind or anything.”

“Ahaha, so generous, Iwa-chan.” Oikawa says lightly, but his voice quavers just a bit. His eyes flick from Hajime’s mouth to his eyes and back again.

“Go sleep.” Hajime looks determinedly down at what he was drawing. “I’ll wake you up in a little bit.”

 _A little bit_ turns into a couple hours and then, when Hajime goes to check and finds Oikawa still sleeping heavily in his bed, it turns into Hajime resentfully trooping out to the couch to with a spare blanket in tow.

He can give up his bed for a night.

He kind of wants to climb in and just sleep beside Oikawa, but down that train of thought lies nothing good. Hajime wants to keep his friend, so he curls up under a blanket that's a little scratchy on a couch that’s a little too small.

**~~~~**

Hajime wakes up and immediately regrets it.

Urgh. He’s got a crick in his neck and approximately half of his limbs are sleep. Why the fuck did he sleep on the couch again?

“Iwa-chan?” Oikawa’s voice, thick with sleep, breaks the train of his thoughts. “Are you here?”

And there it is.

“Oikawa?” Hajime drags himself into a sitting position and rubs his eyes. “What time is it?”

“Um, around five thirty, I think. My alarm went off a little bit ago.”

Oikawa is dragging what looks like all of Hajime’s sheets with him, draping them around himself like a cloak. It should make him look like an idiot, but it really, really doesn’t.

“Ah, Iwa-chan.” Oikawa has a pink flush on his cheeks. The expression he’s wearing is strange, almost shy. “Thank you...for letting me sleep in your bed. I guess I stayed asleep all night, huh?”

“Don’t thank me, dumbass.” Hajime leans back into his makeshift blanket nest and rubs his eyes again. “Just start sleeping like a normal person, okay?”

Oikawa just hums in response and Hajime fights the temptation to take another look. Oikawa is almost alarmingly alluring draped in Hajime’s bedsheet with his hair mussed and messy.

They get ready mostly in silence, their lazy conversation interrupted by long yawns and tired stretches.

“You have a comfy bed, Iwa-chan.” Oikawa hums, fussing with his hair in Hajime’s mirror.

“Most beds are comfy, you idiot, but only if you sleep in them.” Hajime buttons up the front of his shirt, rolling his eyes when he sees Oikawa give himself a wink in the mirror.

“But there’s so many other fun things to do at night, Iwa-chan” Oikawa turns a wink on Hajime. Hajime fights the urge to tear Oikawa’s pretty hair out.

“So trashy.”

“All the girls love me, Iwa-chan.”

“They don’t know that you’re trash like I do, Trashkawa.”

“So mean.”

Oikawa lounges on the couch as Hajime goes to the kitchen to make them both lunches. For a couple of minutes, there’s no sounds except for the dripping of Hajime’s sink and the sound of him chopping and stirring.

“You’ve got another practice match coming up, right?” Hajime says absently.

“Hm?” Oikawa blinks at him. “Ah, yes. Next week. How did you know? Have you joined my fanclub, Iwa-chan? Oh I knew this day would come!”

“Hanamaki told me, you idiot.” Hajime chucks a baby carrot at his head, ignoring his whine of “so mean!”

“He mentioned it was against a former teammate right?”

Oikawa glances back and scowls so darkly that he doesn’t even look like himself. “Tobio-chan.” He grumbles. “He’s so annoying.”

“Oh wow.” Hajime says flatly. “I can’t imagine having to deal with an annoying person all the time. How awful.”

Oikawa ignores his sarcasm. “Yep, it was terrible, Iwa-chan.”

“You are just the worst type of person.”

“But Iwa-chan likes me anyway.”

“Nah.”

Oikawa laughs, bright and happy, and Hajime fights the blush threatening to creep up his neck.

He wants more morning like this. He wants _all_ of his mornings to be like this.

“Shut up, Oikawa.”

He is so, so screwed.

**~~~~**

He, Oikawa and Hanamaki go together to see Matsukawa's play that Friday. It's a rare evening off of practice for Oikawa and Hanamaki, so they're both in high spirits as the take their seats on either side of Hajime in the auditorium. 

The lights lower, the play starts and Hajime tries and fails to ignore the way his knees are resting against Oikawa's. 

This is the latest development in their relationship. Since Oikawa spent the night, Hajime is just...aware of Oikawa. Like, all of the time. Quite frankly, it’s exhausting. He edges his knees away from Oikawa, knocking their feet together in the process.

“Your feet are touching me!” Oikawa whines.

Hajime feels his face color. “They are not!” His hisses.

“And your hand is touching mine too!” He flexes his fingers so that they brush Hajime’s.

“What is the big deal, okay?” Hajime growls. “These are little seats, they have little arm rests!”

“But, I…”

“You two are being rude.” Hanamaki says idly. “Some of us are trying to watch our very dashing boyfriend woo a fair princess.”

“Oops! Sorry, Maki!”

“Sorry.”

For a few minutes, they all watch Matsukawa soliloquize about something.

“You’re still touching me!”

“Why are you making this a big deal, Shittykawa?”

“I can’t concentrate now and I don’t know what’s going on!”

“Well, whose fault is that?”

“It’s yours, Iwa-chan, that’s what I’ve been trying to tell you!”

“You absolute idiot, I…”

“Hey.” Hanamaki interrupts their whispered bickering. “Shut up.”

“He started it.” Oikawa mumbles.

“I did not!” Hajime snaps. “You’re being so stupid right now…”

“You’re both being stupid.” Hanamaki hisses.

“Right.”

“Sorry.”

For a minute, more silence as Matsukawa trots about the stage. Then;

“I swear to god, Oikawa, if you kick my leg _one more time_ …”

"If your legs weren't _in my space..._ " 

“Get out.” Hanamaki’s voice is sharp.

“ _What_?”

“But, Maki!”

“You’re pissing me off.” Hanamaki actually looks annoyed. “Come back when you’ve sorted all of your ridiculous shit out.”

“But…”

“Hanamaki, I…”

“ _Out_.” He hisses. “You idiots.”

Hajime has never actually seen Hanamaki mad before. From the dumbstruck expression on Oikawa’s face, he hasn’t either.

They both leave as quietly as possible.

Neither one speaks until after they exit the double doors into the warm night air. It’s deserted, everyone already gone home or at the play inside.

“So…”

“So?”

“Sorry, Iwa-chan.” Oikawa says softly.

“I...yeah.” Hajime nods. “Me too.”

“That was stupid.”

“Yeah, it was.”

“Maki was right. We were being rude.”

“I know.” Hajime sighs. The only person who ever manages to get him like this is Oikawa. He’s not sure, exactly, what that means for them.

They walk in silence for a while, Hajime with his hands in his pockets and Oikawa with his crossed behind his head.

“Iwa-chan…” Oikawa’s voice makes Hajime abandon his intense contemplation of his shoes. “ _Look_.”

In front of them, a row of trees are all a riot of soft pink petals. A faint wind stirs them, making the petals dance lazily to the ground.

Of course the sakura trees are blossoming. Of-fucking-course.

In the moonlight, they’re almost ethereal. Hajime’s fingers itch with a need to draw the scene. But, no, he couldn’t use this. His readers, his _thirteen year old girl readers_ , would for sure find this too cliche.

What even is his life anymore.

“It’s pretty.” Oikawa hums, looking up at the pale petals with a faint smile on his face. “Don’t you think, Iwa-chan?”

“I…” Hajime starts, but the words get caught in his throat. He can’t do this anymore. He wasn’t cut out for shoujo. He’s got all the cliches he wanted when he was an awkward scrawny preteen and he is so over them.

“Argh.” He groans. “Fuck.”

He trusts Oikawa now, maybe even respects him. He believes that, even if Oikawa can’t accept his feelings, he will still be Hajime’s friend. And that, the promise of Oikawa in his life no matter what, is enough for Hajime to be brave.

Well, that and the fact that he is instinctively programmed to equate sakura blossoms with confessions. It is his curse as a shoujo manga author.

Hajime takes a second. Breathes deeply. Lets it go.

“The generic hero keeps ending up with you.”

“What?” Oikawa blinks at him, eyes wide and silvery in the moonlight.

“In my stupid manga.” Hajime jams his hands in his pockets and looks at the ground. “I keep writing the generic hero ending up with your character because I couldn’t imagine that any person would choose someone else if they had the chance to be with you.”

“Iwa-chan, are you…” Oikawa stops and swallows. “Are you confessing to me?”

Hajime kind of wants to take it back, to claim it was a bad joke. But he’s tired of pining and waiting. It’s so annoying and stressful and he can’t believe he stretched out the pining phase for like fifty chapters in his manga.

In his next one, they’re getting together in the second chapter.

“Yeah.” He looks up, finally, and sees the sakura blossoms and the stars and Oikawa. “Yeah I am.”

Oikawa stares at him for along second, frozen, before…

“Iwa-chan!” He straight-up hurls himself at Hajime and fails to account for the fact that he is taller and probably heavier than Hajime is.

They go down, hard. In the mangas, falling like this is romantic. In real life, Hajime finds that it’s actually super painful.

“Ow.” He says.

Oikawa giggles into his collarbone.

“That hurt, you idiot.”

“Sometimes I forget that Iwa-chan is tiny.” Oikawa says, very seriously. “I’m sorry, tiny Iwa-chan.”

“I take it back.” Hajime growls and tries to shove Oikawa off. “I don’t like you. I hate you.”

“No, Iwa-chan, _no_!” Oikawa whines and holds onto Hajime. “No take backs!”

“Oh my god, you are an actual five-year-old.”

Oikawa just smiles at him, eyes crinkling at the corners. There are petals in his hair. “I like you too, Iwa-chan.” He says. “In case you were wondering.”

“Shut up and kiss me, you idiot.” Hajime mumbles.

Oikawa grins like an idiot. “It’s just like the mangas, Iwa-chan.” He hums before pressing his lips to Hajime’s.

**~~~~**

When they go back in for the last five minutes of the play, Hanamaki catches sight of their clasped hands and lets out a relieved sigh.

“Finally.”

“So mean, Maki!”

Hanamaki just stares at them with dead eyes. “You two are coming to see Matsukawa’s play again tomorrow. The whole thing.”

“Oh, so scary Maki.”

“I’m just being a good boyfriend.”

“I’m going to be a better boyfriend.” Oikawa says, instantly competitive. “The best boyfriend out of _all the boyfriends_.”

Hajime rolls his eyes, but the effect is kind of ruined by the smile he still can’t get rid of. “You’re such trash.” He sighs.

“But you like me.” Oikawa hums, squeezes his hand.

“Nah.” Hajime grins and squeezes his hand back.

“Shut up with your stupid banter.” Hanamaki chides. “Matsukawa’s death scene is coming up.”

“Wait, he _dies_?”

“Spoilers, Maki!”

“Just shut up and watch.”

On stage, Matsukawa is pretending to die and by Hajime’s side, Hanamaki is trying very hard to look like he isn’t crying. Beside Hajime, Oikawa, his brand new boyfriend, keeps sneaking little glances at their clasped hands, like he can’t believe it’s actually happening.

It’s nothing like the mangas.

But it’s actually kind of perfect.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Iwaizumi is a shoujo princess who deserves all the nice things
> 
> but that’s a wrap for now...I might eventually do a lil epilogue for this or a side story for MatsuMaki
> 
> Not sure yet...but be on the lookout for that to maybe eventually happen
> 
> and thanks for all of the nice comments and kudos~! i really do appreciate it!

**Author's Note:**

> haha the title on this one is actually terrible 
> 
> prayer hands emoji for Oikawa. 
> 
> (being Oikawa is suffering)


End file.
